Let The Dream Begin
by ix3rodeo
Summary: A modern girl visiting the Paris Opera is taken back to 1870's Paris.


This is my first attempt at a full length phic...I think my Erik will have traits from Kay, Leroux, and ALW, depending on my mood...hrm...well, you'll just have to see. Sadly, I don't own any PoTO characters. Modern Chris & Co. are mine, though.

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The young woman sighed; her forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the bus window. The cheerful chatter of other passengers filled her ears. Mainly, they spoke French, but a few were speaking English. Not that it really mattered. She understood perfectly well either way. The French language had been one of the few things that were easy for her to learn while she was in school. Almost any other subject, she failed. French and choir were the only classes that ever held her interest, ever really inspired her to try. And when she tried, she found success. She was the leading soprano in her school's choir all four years of high school and had helped earn state recognition for the first time in years. She had finished all the French curriculum offered by her school in a matter of months, then moving on to take French at a local college. Her professor could not believe she was not a native speaker. Since she had arrived in France, she had acted as a translator for the other girls-Ashley, Megan, and Katie-traveling with her. For once, at least, they were aware of, if not grateful for, her existence. At the moment, though, they were all caught up in their own, rather obnoxious, English conversations- her ability was not needed.

The loud interior of the tour bus and the other passengers' conversations seemed muted, as she gazed out the window into the light, misting rain, deep in thought. She didn't know why she had been so drawn to go on this trip to Paris. She didn't know anything of France, except what she had learned in her language classes and movies, which really wasn't very much. And yet, she went, without a second thought. She took everything she owned-which wasn't really much, but there was no point in her leaving anything behind. Her last foster parents had been relatively kind, but she knew well that like the rest, they too were relieved to finally be rid of her. She supposed she would just hurry up the process and make things easy on them.

She was eighteen years old. Bounced from foster home to foster home her whole youth, she'd never known her parents. Did she even have any? Of course, everyone did. But as to where they were now-it was anyone's guess. Alive, dead, she didn't know. It didn't matter. As far as she could remember, she had been alone. The agency didn't have any information on her parents, or so they said. Once, though, while snooping around the office during the interview of yet another foster family, she found her file. "Custody surrendered at 6 weeks" was all it said. Great. So she had been such a freak, even as a baby, that her own parents couldn't stand her. Her appearance didn't really give any indication to a particular ethnic heritage. She had long, curly chestnut hair, large brown eyes, and a pale, creamy complexion, traits found in people from any number of countries.

The child care organization that had overseen her care for her entire life, really, had helped fund her on this trip with a few other girls from school. A "graduation gift", they said, although she secretly felt that in her case, it was more of a "good riddance" than anything else. She could hardly blame them- no family had wanted to keep her long. Not after they discovered her secret. She had lived in Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, Virginia, Georgia, Kentucky, Iowa, Tennessee, and for a record few weeks, Kansas. Now, she was virtually homeless. She hadn't applied for college-really, what was the point? No school would have accepted someone with her GPA. They wouldn't have even looked at her application. So here she was. A strange girl with no past, and no future.

The bus stopped, rather harshly, as she felt herself lunge forward, just barely reaching out to brace herself before her head smacked into the seat in front of her. They were there. The Opera Garnier. She stood and walked off as though in a trance, like a woman possessed. In spite of herself, she felt her heart begin to race. Forgetting everything, she walked towards the famous opera house. It was so breathtakingly beautiful, so mysterious, so…

"Um. Chris?" She snapped out of her dream to find Katie looking at her with a bored, somewhat disgusted look. Katie flipped her hair. "What are you doing?"

Chris, also known as Christine, gave a slight, sheepish smile and quickly thought of an excuse. "I was..." She never got a chance to explain, however. All three of the other girls simply rolled their eyes, shoved past her, and she took her cue to fall in line until she was needed. She studied them as they walked with rather amused interest. She'd known them since they were in elementary school, and really, their dispositions hadn't improved. Nor had they matured. She tuned out their incessant whining about how stupid it was that they had to go to the opera house when there were so many places to shop in Paris. It wasn't like they were even, like, into opera or anything.

She listened with interest as the tour began and the guide began to speak about the history of the Opera Garnier. Built in the 19th century in the neo-baroque style to the design of Charles Garnier, regarded as one of the finest architectural masterpieces of it's time…She absorbed every detail. How was it that she felt she had been here before? It was so strange. But every nook and cranny looked so familiar, and it almost was like every room they walked into, she had already seen…more than already seen. She couldn't quite place this feeling…but it was starting to kind of scare her. How was it that she knew so much about this place that she'd only heard of a few times before in her life? Why was it that she almost felt like…this was _her_ place, like she…_belonged_? Absurd. Absolutely crazy. She tried-and succeded, at least temporarily- to push her focus back to what the tour guide was saying. Something about an accident involving a chandelier…Even so, she just couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that had enveloped her. This place…it felt unreal.

Maybe it was the fact that she already felt she knew what the tour guide was saying. Maybe it was that no one was paying attention to the slight brunette looking for an escape route. Maybe it was that there was an open door at the end of the hallway. Whatever the reason, she felt herself drawn towards the door and slipped away from the group and went on her own to do some exploration.

The door probably was not meant to be open, she realized. It was surely not meant to be part of the tour, and she probably would be in a great deal of trouble if discovered. But it was too late now. Curiosity had gotten to her, and she had to know where it lead. She had walked through and found herself in another hallway. Dim lighting faintly illuminated her path, and so, she continued on. Eventually, the hallway became a dead end. What now? She didn't want to go back to the group. She supposed she would just join them at the end of the tour. Surely no one would miss her. She began to randomly try doors. Many were locked, and she was just about to leave the hallway when she saw one more. Gently, she turned the aged bronze knob. The door opened.

Chris stepped inside. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light. When they did, she saw large shapes covered by white sheets, presumably covering furniture. This room probably hadn't had a visitor for years and years. She ran her hand over the top of a chaise longe and found it covered in a thick coat of dust. Frowning slightly, she made her way through the room. At the very end was a huge, full length mirror. Inexplicably, she felt herself drawn towards it. Slowly, she made her way towards it, as if in a daze. Had she even wanted to turn, she would not have been able to force herself away from it. A whispered voice seemed to beckon her on, saying softly, "_come…come…_" All fear left her, replaced by a bizarre calm as she ran her hand over the mirror. She wasn't even surprised when with a loud _click_, the mirror slid to the side, revealing a passage. She felt drawn even stronger into the passage, but also felt herself come to her senses. _This isn't right_, she thought to herself. _Fight it!_ But, she couldn't. Before she knew it, she was in the passage way, completely surrounded by darkness. Where was she? What was going on? Her feet continued on, although she had no idea where on earth they were heading. She was about to scream when she felt herself slip and fall.

She rubbed her head gingerly. _Ow_, she thought. _That wasn't fun._ She attempted to stand. Slowly, she staggered to her feet, her hand braced against the somewhat grimy wall for balance. She stood and examined her surroundings. What had happened, and why couldn't she breathe? She put her hands to her waist. A corset? Well, that explained the whole not breathing thing…Wait a minute. What was going on? When she had walked into the opera house today, she had been wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Now…she was wearing…

Before Chris could even finish her thought, she became acutely aware of a presence behind her. Whipping around, she saw a large figure all in black, with half of his face shining white…He reached out and took her by the arm. His voice was dark and deep as he said quietly, "Christine. You are not to attempt to come here alone." Who he was or, more importantly, what had happened to her, she wouldn't find out. Chris dropped in a dead faint.


End file.
